


I'll Show You Mine If You Show Me Yours

by Arriva



Category: Killing Eve (TV 2018)
Genre: Comparing scars, F/F, Foreplay, Love/Hate, Power Dynamics, Safehouses, Stripping, These two really should not be left alone together, there's plot if you squint
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-04-25
Updated: 2020-04-25
Packaged: 2021-03-02 01:48:08
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,035
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23843254
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Arriva/pseuds/Arriva
Summary: Trapped in a safehouse with nothing to do, Eve and Villanelle play a game.
Relationships: Eve Polastri/Villanelle | Oksana Astankova
Comments: 20
Kudos: 206





	I'll Show You Mine If You Show Me Yours

The worst thing about being in a bungalow with Villanelle is not, surprisingly, the knowledge that she can kill Eve with just about every object in this room.

It's being _stuck_ with her.

Villanelle moves around the tiny space with the irritated restlessness of a toddler. She'll sit or stand in one spot and then minutes or (once) even seconds later flit over to another spot in the room. Which in turn only irritates Eve who is trying very hard to read her book and not acknowledge Villanelle. Which -Eve pointedly a turns a page- is also difficult when Villanelle keeps looking at her like she wants Eve to say something.

Eve has nothing to say to her.

Only- there she goes again, _looking_ at Eve. What does she want Eve to say? Really? She looks away, much to Eve's relief, but then she's on the move again toward- god _dammit._ Villanelle flops onto the couch next to Eve with an overdramatic huff. "I'm bored," she announces.

"It's a safehouse. You're supposed to be bored," Eve says.

"Well, I don't like it."

"You're not going to die of boredom."

Villanelle cocks her head like Eve has challenged her. "Maybe I will."

"You won't."

"You don't know that!" Villanelle snaps. She slumps into the couch cushions with a groan. "I'm going to die in this stupid house with its stupid puke green walls."

The walls aren't _that_ green. Are they? Eve looks up from her book. So maybe they _do_ look like the color of puke... it doesn't matter. "If you're that bored, I saw a few books in the bedroom," Eve says.

"A book? Seriously, Eve?" Villanelle says. "I'm not going to sit on the couch and read _Eat, Pray, Love_."

Was _Eat, Pray, Love_ that bad? Maybe it was. "Then... use your imagination."

" _How_?"

"Well, for instance," Eve says with the turn of a page, "I'm a huge fan of pretending you aren't here."

Villanelle scowls. Months ago, Eve would be bothered by that. Now, Eve doesn't even flinch. Getting shot and left for dead really gave her a sense of clarity. About what was and wasn't healthy for her, and frankly, Villanelle is just not healthy for her. And what is the best thing to do about something that's slowly draining the life out of you like a blonde psychopathic parasite?

Cut them out, of course.

Which was going great for Eve up until two weeks ago. Until Madrid. Until the safest place for them to be was a bungalow in the middle of nowhere with puke green walls- god, now Eve can't stop thinking about the walls either. This is why she and Villanelle can't be together. Being in the vicinity of her just leads to Eve suffering.

In Eve's peripheral, Villanelle toys with the tassels on the couch pillows. Eve's been stuck on the same paragraph because of her. "Can you sit still for ten minutes?"

" _No_."

That annoying little- Eve is not engaging with her. Only this book is suddenly very boring, and all she can think about is a way to distract Villanelle. "How about..." Eve sighs. She's going to regret this and she hasn't even suggested it yet. "How about we play a game?"

For the first time in their exile, Villanelle perks up. "Like what?"

"I don't know. Monopoly?"

"Monopoly sucks. We are not playing Monopoly." Her eyes light up and her hand shoots out to grab Eve's. "I know what we can play."

Eve shakes her hand away and eyes her warily. Something about the way she got excited makes Eve think that whatever game she has in mind will lead to -surprise- Eve suffering. "Does it involve physical harm?"

"No."

"Do we have to break the law?"

"Unfortunately, no."

"Am I going to hate you by the end of it?"

"Nope!" Villanelle says in a singsong voice. "This game is called Questions."

Questions. Eve's never heard of this game, and by the time they're done playing it, she's certain she'll never want to play it again. "How do we play?"

"It's very simple actually," Villanelle says. "We go back and forth asking each other questions. Nothing is off the table. But every time you don't want to answer a question, you have to take something off. Whoever gets the other person completely naked first wins."

That little shit. Of course the game Villanelle picks out involves taking clothes off. Worse, now if Eve says no, Villanelle will never let her live it down. But if she says yes, who knows what'll happen. Villanelle looks at her, waiting for an answer. Then again, what else is Eve going to do? Read? All she has to do is answer questions. How hard can that be?

Eve sets her book down. "Okay. Let's play."

"I'll go first!" Villanelle says way too eagerly. She sits criss-cross on the couch, like they're at a fucking sleepover. "What's your favorite way to pleasure yourself?"

Eve slowly pulls off one sock.

So maybe this game is harder than Eve anticipated. But that doesn't mean Eve can't figure out a question to trip up Villanelle. She settles on something intimate. "What's your biggest regret?"

Villanelle sits back with a performative sigh. "I once saw a Hermès scarf in Paris and didn't get it. Then when I came back the next day to buy it, they had sold out."

" _That's_ your biggest regret?"

"You should have seen the scarf," Villanelle says with a smirk. "My turn. Top or bottom?"

"You mean... oh my _god_." Eve hastily pulls off the other sock. Great, now she's losing _and_ her feet are cold. There has to be a way to crack Villanelle. With all the dirt Eve has dug up on Villanelle's past, she has to have some question that would throw her off. Maybe... that was it. A question about Villanelle's past.

"Do you ever think about Anna?"

When Villanelle says, "Nope," Eve wants to throw something.

"Really? You never, not even once, think about her?" Eve says.

"Hey! No follow-up questions!" Villanelle barks. "My turn. How was sex with Niko?"

Eve could punch the smug look off her face right now. "Are all your questions going to be sex-related?"

"Don't be bitter that you're losing, Eve. Answer the question."

Eve's nails dig into the couch cushion. She is not losing without getting a single piece of clothing off Villanelle. "Fun at the beginning, average in the middle, then it got more interesting towards the end. For reasons you most likely remember." A fully clothed Villanelle sits across from her, smiling like the Cheshire cat. Then Eve thinks of the perfect question. "Do you like me more when I'm scared of you?"

Villanelle's smile drops.

Boom.

Maybe Eve was wrong. This game _is_ fun. 

Villanelle spitefully unhooks her trousers and slides them off. Eve gazes at her legs. It's criminal that she's never seen Villanelle in anything but pants.

"Don't look so pleased. I'm still winning," Villanelle says. "If I hadn't pulled the gun out, would you have come with me?"

Rome. A phantom pain flares between Eve's shoulder blades, causing her to tense up. She almost answers. Almost. But then she thinks about Villanelle having that knowledge. Going to sleep every night knowing that Eve would have gone to Alaska with her if it hadn't been for the gun. So instead, she tugs off her sweatpants. Disappointment flickers across Villanelle's face. That alone verifies Eve's decision.

Now it's Eve's turn. "Do you honestly think I'll ever love you?"

"Your questions suck," Villanelle snarls.

"So?"

The look of murder in Villanelle's eyes would send even the toughest MI6 agent running. It's worth it just to see Villanelle take off her blazer. "How do you think Bill would feel about us together?" she says.

"Oh, _fuck_ you-"

"Are you gonna answer the question, Eve?"

Eve pulls off her cardigan and throws it at Villanelle. By now, they're both down to just shirts and underwear. Eve's eyes linger on Villanelle's cream-colored blouse. It has a tantalizingly low v-neck, which must be solely to torment Eve. Why else would the fabric have shifted so it's nearly slipping off Villanelle's right shoulder? She's practically begging Eve take it off.

Why does Eve want to take it off so badly?

She knows what her next question is. "Would you show it to me?"

Villanelle smiles knowingly. This time, she does not take anything off. "I'll show you mine if you show me yours."

Eve's mouth twists into a hard line. She shouldn't be surprised, but she honestly hoped Villanelle would just take her shirt off. By now, the game is nothing more than a footnote. The t-shirt comes off. Slowly. Like drawing it out will make Villanelle change her mind, as if Eve could really ask for something and expect to give nothing in return. But that's not how it works, and Eve knows it.

She holds the bunched up shirt to her chest protectively. This is her last chance to turn back. She can put the shirt back on and return to safety, return to something healthy.

Screw healthy.

Eve tosses the shirt aside. Now she's clad in nothing but an old bra and panties. She allows Villanelle one ravenous glimpse of her body before turning around to show her the narrow little line on her back that's the product of so much emotional turmoil. Behind her, she hears Villanelle inhale. She feels the couch cushions shift. Suddenly, fingers brush against her back. Eve can't repress the shudder that goes through her body.

Villanelle's fingers trace up and down the scar. "It's..."

"Different than you expected?"

" _Beautiful._ "

Beautiful. The surgery and the physical therapy felt nothing like that. "It hurt like hell," Eve says.

"I know."

And the wistful longing in Villanelle's voice makes Eve wonder if she really does know. Does she know how much pain she's caused Eve? How much they've caused each other? What if they're just destined to do this dance forever? Pain, pleasure, pain, pleasure, will it ever end?

Then Villanelle's lips brush against the scar, and Eve's back arches. Her lips are _soft._ Why did they have to be so soft? Then Villanelle's kissing her way up Eve's shoulders and up her neck and soon she'll be kissing her- 

Eve turns around, snapping out of her reverie. Villanelle looks disappointed. "Your turn," she says.

There's a fire in Villanelle's eyes now that she has to uphold her end of the bargain. Unlike Eve, she doesn't hesitate to undo the ribbon holding her blouse together. She removes the blouse gracefully, making a show out of it. Eve is more than happy to watch.

Then there it is.

The scar.

It's a small straight line, so similar and yet so different to Eve's scar. How many times had Eve come close to asking her about it? More than she would ever reveal. Eve's fingers dance across the scar. She can't stop herself from pressing her lips against it. The kiss is tender, gentle. It elicits a moan out of Villanelle. That's all Eve needs to go farther. She's kisses her way across Villanelle's stomach, traveling up to her chest, then her neck, then finally her lips. Villanelle returns the kiss like she's been waiting for years to do this. 

Her arms snake around Eve's waist and pull her closer. This isn't healthy. Eve knows it, Villanelle probably knows it. But it's very difficult to remember how unhealthy this is when Villanelle's making her feel so _good_.

Then Eve is on her back, and Villanelle's sliding her panties off and her tongue is on- Eve's breath hitches. This is bad idea. It's also the best idea they've had since getting stuck here. Maybe Villanelle planned this from the start when suggesting that horrible game.

Come to think of it... "So," Eve says between breaths, "who wins?"

Villanelle looks up, clearly confused about why Eve is bringing this up in the middle of sex. She thinks for a moment. "We'll call it a draw."

"Works for me."

Ev will hate herself in the morning, but right now, all she can think about is Villanelle's head between her legs.

**Author's Note:**

> A little something something! I'm really enjoying season 3 so far :)


End file.
